


Split

by orphan_account



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Jealousy, M/M, Physical Disability, interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-16
Updated: 2014-06-16
Packaged: 2018-02-04 22:22:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1795264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU where Ambulon doesn't die (Yaay!!) is put back together but remains severely disabled for a little while and bound to a wheelchair while he recovers. First Aid is more than willing to take care of him. (Follow on fic from "Drop in Surgery")</p>
            </blockquote>





	Split

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FoxyTurttle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxyTurttle/gifts).



> This is a follow on fic from [Drop in Surgery](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1663064)  
> Which was a follow on fic from [Flush](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1538165)
> 
> This fic was request by [FoxyTurttle](http://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxyTurttle)
> 
> I spit it into two parts because one long wordy block didn't seem to work very well.

As medical staff a certain amount of patience was necessary; a greater amount of patience was optional but ideal if your CMO wanted all practices to perform frictionlessly. Ambulon was used to treating crotchety mechs who thought they knew best. The experience was shared mutually by every nurse, doctor and consultant through out the universe. Most times Ambulon bracketed petulance under same brand name as bad manners. 

That was until he was sat on the opposite side of the patient doctor exchange. Then, telling himself ‘doctor knows best’ simply wasn’t good enough. Once again he felt his patience stumbling into a decline. 

“Ow.” It was his foot that bumped into the wall but he felt the pain in his knee cap. 

“Sorry! Sorry!” First Aid readjusted their course. The hectic apologises failing cure the blandness of Ambulon’s tone. 

First Aid pushed Ambulon on two wheels instead of the available four. The front two squeaked and that had grated his nerves even more than his sensory units in chaos. 

“Nearly there!” First Aid chirped as they came about the last corner with no incident. Ambulon didn’t say a thing. His hands were folded in his lap. Quite naturally, when an itch tickled inside his nasal ridge Ambulon willed to rub it away - however, no longer was it the thoughtless action he remembered. Each time Ambulon attempted to lift an arm his legs twitched. 

It was a new face brought out of storage especially for him. Ratchet had complimented him in having a generic face - it made it easier to replace when _accidents_  like this happened. Ambulon had scoffed...and then sneezed. Apparently, nobody bothered to dust his new image down before slapping it on him.  

_C’mon_ , this was becoming a nuisance. He glared at his hands, focusing on them alone with a firm will and determination spurred by the spread of the itch into his cheeks.

Behind him First Aid gasped, 

“You’re wiggling you fingers!” He sounded so impressed but it was hardly the progress Ambulon hoped for. The itch was just going to have to scratch itself. 

“Careful, _careful!”_ There was a larger step than Ambulon remembered forming part of the door frame to his room. Again, it was something he’d never, ever noticed until his chair wheels were being slowly eased over it. He still hit the other side with a bump. The impact was enough to shake his seams. And just when he thought the worst was behind him First Aid released his handle on Ambulon’s mobility, the front two wheels of the chair dropped to the floor hard. 

This time Ambulon didn’t make a sound. But his teeth clenched hard as stress rattled his body. The ugly weld mark gluing his split chest together straining to maintain him and the position of his internal components. 

“There!” First Aid chittered on, oblivious to the damage he could have done, “Home sweet home.” 

Everything was much the same. Ambulon would even dare to say it was tidier now, after the attack of the Legislators, than it had been before. Even though there’d been no opportunity to clean since then. 

Ambulon looked around, largely unimpressed as always and his face was still twitching in an attempt to satisfy his itch. 

“I’ll get you some energon.” 

In both their rooms they always kept a bottle or two stashed somewhere; provisions for after a long night shift at the medial wing when fuelling was secondary to sleep. First Aid was obviously elated to learn a decanter and spare cubes survived the whole Luna 1 ordeal without suffering so much as a scratch. Ambulon wished he could say the same. 

“What’s the matter with you?” First Aid chuckled. Ambulon’s face was scrunched; soured like he’d been sucking on lemons. The attention didn’t remedy his expression, it actually got more intense as Ambulon frowned in concentration. 

“My nose is itching.” 

“So scratch it.” First Aid stepped toward him with the energon and briefly Ambulon forewent the intensity of his efforts. 

“Guess which finger I’d be holding up to you now if I could.” Oblivious to the intended spleen First Aid laughed again. With compassion in his expression he knelt in front of Ambulon, the energon rations he set aside to rub a knuckle across Ambulon’s nose. 

Disgruntled, Ambulon tried and failed to flinch back. Finally the itch had disappeared, unfortunately it had taken much of Ambulon’s dignity along with it and First Aid looked annoyingly happy with himself. Ambulon’s ire must have showed. 

“What’s the matter grumpy?” 

The nickname Ambulon hated. As if he could be anything _but_ grumpy in his present state! First Aid didn’t seem to realise pointing that out wasn’t making anything better.

Scornfully Ambulon didn’t answer and just about managed to twist his head away; a silent declaration of his dissatisfaction. 

Sighing, First Aid’s crouch wobbled as he poured Ambulon a cube of energon. 

“Sorry it’s not warm.” They both knew cold energon was far more bitter and less appetising. But perhaps that suited Ambulon more as he was hardly in the mood for sweetness. The cube was held out, First Aid was expecting him to take it and Ambulon scowled again, “Oh right!” Although Ambulon had not said he wanted to be essentially hand fed he accepted there wasn’t any alternative while his relays and synapses continued to miscommunicate. But he certainly wasn’t going to ask for this.

With some care First Aid pressed the cube to Ambulon’s lips and after some very loud slurping the attempt to drink was largely unsuccessful and most of the energon dribbled back out of Ambulon’s slack mouth and down his front. In the medical bay all his nourishment was taken care of for him via intravenous drip. Oh how Ambulon would much prefer to revert to those simpler times now that First Aid was about to laugh at him _again._

“Stop laughing!” His barks were laced by static and the gleam in First Aid’s visor faded fast. 

“Buck up will you.” 

“Buck up?! I was sawn in _half,_ nearly died and now I’m forced to sit here and be fed while you behave like a soppy prat!”    

Apparently quite stunned, First Aid leaned back on his heels. Leaving the sticky rivulets of energon trickle into Ambulon’s nooks and crannies. 

“Jus’ trying to take care of you.”

“Well be a mech about it. I’m not a sparkling!” 

The energon cube was held gently in First Aid’s hands but he wasn’t looking at Ambulon anymore, the pressure of his embarrassment pushed his head into a stoop. 

“Sorry.” 

The awkwardness of the whole damned situation would have made Ambulon squirm if he could, instead it was more of a rigid wobble and his wheelchair creaked a little. 

“Primus.” Ambulon muttered beneath his breath. Wishing for the ability to escape the heaviness of the situation. 

“I’m just excited to have you back, that’s all, I thought you were…” First Aid looked up, visor flickering with explanatory emotion, “ And I could bring you here and have you all to myself.” 

The reason behind First Aid’s doltish behaviour wasn’t listened to. Ambulon was weary and didn’t have the available mental capacity to care. Maybe that was another glitch: inability to access additional memory storage, or maybe he was just being selfish. 

“Well I’m certainly not going anywhere now.” In which First Aid heard Ambulon’s frustration louder. 

“Maybe it won’t be so bad.” Ambulon's look of deterrent wasn’t enough, “We’ll have each other… it might be nice.” 

“You try spending an hour as a tetraplegic mannequin and then say that again.” 

“Ambulon…” 

“No! Stop sympathising, stop coddling, stop pretending everything’s okay when it blatantly isn’t! It’s almost like you’re, you’re _excited_ to see me like this!”

“Or maybe I’m just happy to have you back and be able to talk to you again.” 

“What do you mean again? We talked all the time.” 

In First Aid’s memory that wasn’t true and when Ambulon’s spark was flickering First Aid panicked and thought of all his missed opportunities.

“Not like we used to.” The amendment was quiet. First Aid may have regretted saying so, “Since Hedonia all we ever talked about was work.” 

To Ambulon’s recollection even before Hedonia they never spoke about much else anyway. 

“Things kept getting in the way after that.” 

“I… what things?” 

Never before had Ambulon been envious of people’s abilities to bite their lips as he was sure First Aid was doing beneath the mask. He thought back and tried to remember what changed after Hedonia. The only thing that sprung to mind was none of anyone’s concern except his… and to his recollection he thought he’d managed to keep things private.

“Ambulon. You’ve always been so oblivious.” Something about the accusation made Ambulon want to bray in denial. Compared to First Aid he was generally quite grounded. But the momentum of his argument was stolen from him as First Aid inched closer. The energon was abandoned, First Aid pressed both of his hands onto Ambulon’s knocked knees, “And I don’t want to waste another chance with you so I’m going to spell it out.” Using Ambulon’s knees for a rickety support, First Aid pushed up and stared directly into Ambulon’s face so there was no avoiding him, “I like you and I know you know what I mean by that.” 

…

“Oh.” 

It was really the only way Ambulon could react sensibly and maintain some appearance that he was actually as oblivious as First Aid liked to think. 

“You never said…”

“How could I when you were so smitten with Drift.” There was something poisonous in First Aid’s words. A splash of bitterness stinging like a first degree burn. 

“You knew about that?” Ambulon balked. Having thought he’d been careful it did come as a shock. 

“A lot of people knew…Rodimus knew. I, personally, don’t think he liked the idea of you running your servos all over his Third in Command.” 

“…We were discrete.”

“Not enough.” First Aid reared back, archly. Containing his envy for so long had been hard. Seeing Ambulon and Drift exchange looks in passing, sometimes their hands would ‘accidentally’ meet and brush in corridors, it all made First Aid worry that this was becoming something more than just a few desperate frags between wilful Ex-Decepticons that couldn’t quite break all their bad habits. In First Aid’s opinion they may as well have been flaunting their affair. By the time Drift was booted off the ship everyone knew. First Aid did find a little dark pleasure in the two being separated, the buds of such feelings bloomed more so when he watched Ambulon consciously forgo seeing Drift’s dismissal in favour of his duties. “Do you miss him?” 

Even though he was sure the answer would torture him, First Aid had to ask. 

Ambulon hesitated. His mouth was dry. 

“He…he was responsible for covering up Overlord…and I didn’t have a clue.” 

“But you do miss him?” The question drew the melancholy out of Ambulon’s thoughts.

“We did have some…memorable times together.” 

Air was chuffed quietly through First Aid’s vents. 

“What? We did! I was…I was sad when he left.” 

“I could tell.” First Aid was not entirely scornful of Drift and Ambulon’s time together. It was too easy to see how quickly the feelings of butterflies and shy smiles died after Drift was accused. Ambulon soon declined into his typical dull mood after, when the layer his pessimism returned it had gotten thicker and First Aid missed seeing him smile, “I’d have helped you if you’d told me.” 

“HA! How could _you_ have helped?” It was the only wound on his body that couldn’t be mended. The recurring sharpness of his tone gave First Aid something to file away. He leaned up further, faces closer, hands rubbing slowly up both of Ambulon’s thighs - the sensation of which he felt else where.  

“By helping you get over him.” 

 

* * *

 

Things shouldn’t have been going so far so fast. Ambulon worried, not just for the repercussions but also for the cohesion of his body. But it was the burning need to feel something other than fear that made Ambulon agree to this. 

…and First Aid promised to be gentle. 

Ambulon hardly recognised his body and its responses. When First Aid arranged his legs like a living doll Ambulon had to bite back sounds of dismay. They were like dead weight pinned to his frame. Sensation would return to him eventually but for now, Ambulon’s mind was struggle to interpret the mismatched sensations… there were a lot of them

Already he felt tension pulling at his seams. There wasn’t enough give in the large weld mark burnt into his middle. It was thick and crusting over as the wound healed slowly. Each time Ambulon moved he feared it’d tear. 

As First Aid positioned him, a fiery tension burned in Ambulon's joints. Each time he’d flinch the circuitry would strain and Ambulon would whimper. His legs hung over the arm rests, aft still in the seat, spread so wide and only vaguely aware of it.

“How’s that feel?” First Aid was stroking inside of him. Three fingers curling and scratching making Ambulon pant. 

His body wasn’t ready for this. The artificial scent of the goop First Aid slathered his hand in was proof of that. But Ambulon couldn’t deny himself and arched slowly outward in the chair. New joints creaking and bowing. 

“Ambulon?” Fresh heat bloomed in Ambulon’s thighs.

“Different.” He gasped, face glazed. Inside feeling so brand new.

“Shh,” First Aid turned his head into Ambulon’s thighs, “Easy. Different good?”

Ambulon didn't know. 

“You’re all tender inside… really soft.” The three fingers gaped, so did Ambulon's valve and the smell of artificially sweetened lubricant and interfacing got stronger. Ambulon chewed hard on his lips, his haywire receptacles forgetting how much force to use and his breath was forced heavily through his nose. 

“Ambulon. Relax.” There was no shame in a little sound. Ambulon rarely restrained himself this much around his other partners, First Aid knew, he’d heard them after all, and with that in mind he poked his fingers in harder. Determined to provoke the same wilful sounds. 

The metal under Ambulon’s lips was marked with dents. His jaw fell open with a sharp gasp.

“Good?” 

“W-Why do you keep asking me things?” In this position, under these stresses it was hard to think.

“Because I wanna know if you’re having a good time?” 

Ambulon thought about it, First Aid’s hand slowed and revolved making Ambulon’s face twist. A new bundle of sensors was aggravated and Ambulon’s dangling legs reflexively kicked. 

“I - I … It feels so different, nnn, I’m not, _I’m not used to this!_ ”

“Shh, shh,” First Aid leaned up, high on his knees, squashed between Ambulon’s legs, fingers still twisting in the electrified valve so gently, “It’s okay.” Cool knuckles brushed over Ambulon’s flushed face, “You’re doing good.” Intentionally curling his fingers to make the other mech jolt, “Are you feeling all of this?”

“Yes!” 

“Are you feeling it in the right place?”

“ _Yes_!” His fingers were twitching round the arm rests, wanting to clench and hold. The infirmity of his insides making him worry an overload would shake him apart. His concern preventing the band of energy tightening his spark from snapping. 

“Well that’s good.” First Aid mercilessly pushed deeper. His thump toggling with the outside node, sending waves of electricity bouncing into Ambulon’s middle. When the lines of troubled emotions wouldn’t leave Ambulon’s face First Aid leaned up and nuzzled the stiff column of his neck, his free hand exploring and rubbing, “Then just enjoy it Ambulon. I’ve got you, I’ll take care of you.” He angled his fingers differently and thrust in sharpish, “I won’t leave you.” 

First Aid thought it was his expert ministrations that conjured the loud whines Ambulon was beginning to let loose from his chest. Unaware that it was the declarations of doting fantasy that made Ambulon feel startlingly trapped in his body. But he was not unable to accept that he needed the companionship. It would be beneficial to his recovery if he kept First Aid and indulged him when he could. 

The workings of the chair squeaked as First Aid’s pace quickened, making short, stabbing thrusts with his hand, mounting Ambulon’s climax for him, whispering assurances that everything would be alright if he just accepted the inevitable and let go. _Just give in_. Let it happen. 

The pressure inside Ambulon's interface reached all the way up to his spark. First Aid’s encouragement was relentless, he wouldn’t give Ambulon a reprieve without the satisfaction of an overload to settle him. In desperation, Ambulon’s hips jerked unevenly, out of pace with First Aid’s action but it was enough. 

The heat, the band of pressure, it broke at once. Ambulon arched and fell in his chair, rolling further into First Aid as fingers curled inside him and scratched out the last of the electric charge leaving Ambulon limp. Legs quivering and fans chugging air. The release of tension slackening his expression. 

“See, I told you you’d still be in one piece.” First Aid sounded full of pride. He pressed his helm against Ambulon’s numb, hot cheek. 

Ambulon’s optics dimmed and lowered, watching First Aid’s hand slide out of his slick, tender valve and sooth the residual crackle of energy away with lazy strokes. 

Ambulon felt stiff. His groin nearly locked into a permanent spread as his legs still dangled over the chair arms, bent at the knee and swaying weakly. 

He was sore, inside and out. Coldness creeping up his thighs and dried the stains of artificial lubricant. The relief he felt wasn’t that of a release of charge, it was for still being whole. His spark didn’t melt through his chest. The lengthways split didn’t unravel him again. 

Ambulon felt alive. 

It took a few attempts, his reaction circuits were still taking root in the rebuilt parts of his frame, his arm twitched and shook and moved intermittently until Ambulon finally was able to drape the limb over First Aid’s back. A loose parody of cuddling in the afterglow.   

If this was what taking care of him was, Ambulon reminded himself to return the favour once he regained his mobility. 

**Author's Note:**

> Any requests? Read my [Terms and Conditions](http://bammshee.tumblr.com/bammsheesfanficrequests) and then inbox me your ideas :)


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